MY NAME IS KĀMANĪTA. I was born in Ujjenī, a town lying among the mountains far to the south, in the land of Avanti. My father was a merchant and rich, though our family could lay claim to no special rank. He gave me a good education and, when of age to assume the Sacrificial Cord, I already possessed most of the accomplishments which befit a young man of position, so that people generally believed I must have been educated in Taxilā, at the great university. So that it became, my friend, a proverbial saying in Ujjenī: “Talented as the young Kāmanīta.”* * *When I was twenty years old, my father sent for me one day and said:“My son, your education is now complete; it is time for you to see something of the world and begin your career as a merchant. A suitable opportunity has just offered itself. Within the next few days our king will send an embassy to King Udena in Kosambī, which lies far to the north. There I have a friend named Panāda. He and I have visited and stayed with each other at various times. He has frequently told me that in Kosambī there is good business to be done in the products of our land, particularly in rock crystals and sandalwood powder, and also in artistic wicker‐work and woven goods.

So now, my son, we had better go to the warehouse and inspect the twelve wagons with their teams of oxen and the goods which I have decided on for your journey. In exchange for these items you are to bring back muslin from Benares and carefully selected rice; and that will be the beginning, and I trust a splendid one, of your business career. Then you will have an opportunity of seeing foreign countries with trees and gardens, landscapes and architecture other than your own, and other customs; and you will have daily contact with courtiers who are men of the highest station and of most refined aristocratic manners. All of this I consider will be a great gain, for a merchant must be a man of the world."

I thanked my father with tears of joy, and a few days later said farewell to my friends and my home. What a joyful anticipation my heart beat with as, at the head of my wagons, I passed out of the city gates, a member of this magnificent procession, and the wide world lay open before me! Each day of the journey was to me like a festival, and when the camp‐fires blazed up in the evenings to scare the panthers and tigers away, and I sat in the circle by the side of the ambassador with men of years and rank, it seemed to me that I was in some kind ofwonderful fairyland.

Through the magnificent forest regions of Vedisa and over the gently swelling heights of the Vindhaya mountains we reached the vast northern plain, and there an entirely new world opened itself out before me. It was about a month after our setting out that, one glorious evening, from a palm‐covered hill‐top, we saw two golden bands which, disengaging themselves from the mists on the horizon, threaded through the immeasurable acres of green beneath, and gradually approached each other until they became united in one broad zone.

A hand touched my shoulder,it was the ambassador “Those, Kāmanīta, are the sacred river Yamunā and the divine Gangā whose waters unite before our eyes.” Involuntarily I raised my hands, palms together, in reverence.“You do well to greet them in this way,” my patron went on. “For if the Gangā comes from the home of the gods amid the snow‐clad mountains of the north and flows from the Abode of the Eternal; the Yamunā, on the other hand, takes its rise in lands known to far‐distant 15 heroic days, and its floods have reflected the ruins of Hastinapura, The City of Elephants."

Full of admiration, I looked up to this man from the warrior caste.He took me by the hand and said: “Come, son,look at the goal of your first journey.” As it flashed upon my vision I gasped in admiration for there, at a bend of the broad Gangā, lay the city of Kosambī great and splendid in its beauty. With its walls and towers, its piled‐up masses of houses, its terraces,lit up by the setting sun, it really looked like a city of red gold.

That night I slept under the hospitable roof of Panāda, my father’s old friend. Early on the following day,The good Panāda, a grey‐haired old gentleman, now conducted me to the markets of the city and, with his friendly assistance, in the course of the next few days I was able to sell my wares at a good profit — and to purchase an abundance of those products of the northern plains which are so highly prized among our people.My business was thus brought to a happy conclusion long before the embassy getting ready to start on its return journey; and I had now full liberty to see the town in the company of Somadatta, the son of my host.

*************To be continued**************

yawares

Last edited by yawares on Tue Jul 10, 2012 11:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.

A novel set in the time of the Buddha portrays the life of the pilgrim Kamanita in his long and roundabout quest for spiritual perfection. This is a new version of an old book, edited by Ajahn Amaro.

Dear Bhikkhu Gavesako,

Yes, I have the whole collection..Thai/English...by Karl/Amaro Bhikkhu....but I had to edit it to suit the forum/not too long.I'm surprised that you know this story!! I read it first time when I was 14 yrs old..before my exam...it took me the whole weekend to finish with tears...very sad indeed...not only sad movies make me cry...sad stories too...or even when my puppy/cat died.

Did you read it to the end? too romantic for monks??yawares

Last edited by yawares on Mon Aug 20, 2012 1:16 am, edited 1 time in total.

Yes... that is why I have not actually read it. But it is based on a Sutta from Majjhima Nikaya where the Buddha meets a monk in a potter's shed, and that is quite an interesting incident (because the monk does not recognize the Buddha).

Maybe I should read it to the end sometime in the future -- for educational purposes only, of course

gavesako wrote:Yes... that is why I have not actually read it. But it is based on a Sutta from Majjhima Nikaya where the Buddha meets a monk in a potter's shed, and that is quite an interesting incident (because the monk does not recognize the Buddha).

Maybe I should read it to the end sometime in the future -- for educational purposes only, of course

Dear Bhikkhu Gavesako,

Oh, I just played with you...don't worry, YOU may read my Kamanita safely BECAUSE I cut out the huggy/kissy parts !!! in order to suit for post at DW/SD/JTN. ANYWAY....only the short part in the next chapter that still romantic....After that pure tragic..that was why Kamanita became the Pilgrim trying to find the Buddha to save his miserable life!!!!